


Had Joys No Date, Nor Age No Need

by Chelle1117



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-10
Updated: 2011-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:06:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chelle1117/pseuds/Chelle1117
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney turned and looked at John.  "You know," he said, "I'm ready to go."  John turned to face him, and he knew right away that Rodney was talking about more than just leaving the remnants of the festival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Had Joys No Date, Nor Age No Need

Smiling lightly at the dwindling festivities, John eased himself back onto his log to watch Halling, Jinto, and the Athosians as they continued to dance around the dying fire, celebrating the first successful harvest on New Athos.

The party had been raucous, lots of shouting and singing and cheering. Ronon participated in a mock gladiator battle, and had not, to his and everyone else's surprise, been the last man standing. He was taken down by one of the Atlantis expedition's scientists who also happened to be a collegiate kickboxing champion – and a girl.

"Would you look at that?" Rodney asked. "You'd think he'd be a little bit angry that he lost."

"I don't know, McKay, sometimes losing has its privileges," John said, glancing over at Ronon and his opponent. Both combatants were cozy on the dark side of the embers, wrapped up in each other. John refused to speculate on either the topic of conversation or the locations of their appendages.

"Hmph. I suppose," Rodney said, then took another hesitant sip of his drink.

"John, Rodney," Teyla said, breathless and sweaty with exertion, a smile stretched across her face. "I do not believe I have ever attended such an enjoyable festival! I trust you both enjoyed yourselves?" she asked, taking a seat on the large log some few feet away from John's.

"Yes, it's been fine, as far as harvest festivals go," Rodney said. "It definitely trumps all others I've attended. I'd almost have come to this one of my own free will."

Teyla's brow lifted in skeptical derision. "Dr. McKay, was it not you I saw talking and laughing as you danced with Neela?"

Rodney glanced at John, who suppressed a grin. "No,” he sniffed. “No, it wasn't. You must be mistaken."

"Oh, well, then I supposed I will not tell you what she revealed to me about your interaction." Teyla said, teasingly, at which point John laughed outright.

"Don't tell him, Teyla! It'll eat him alive not knowing." John said and smacked Rodney's thigh.

"I suppose you are correct, John. So be it, Rodney. If you were not the one having fun with Neela, then my conversation with her is of no consequence to you," Teyla said and winked.

Just as Rodney opened his mouth to reply, Kanaan, cradling Torren, called for Teyla to join him, and she excused herself, jogging lightly to the other side of the clearing.

As the fire died further, and the embers glowed red and orange within the stone circle, the revelers started making their ways back into their homes, emptying the clearing, leaving only John, his team, and few stragglers out in the cool night air.

Rodney sat on the log, quietly gazing into the dying embers of the fire. The dim red glow lit his face in odd ways, creating stark shadows beneath his mouth and jaw and highlighting his cheeks and lips. As he glanced around at the remaining people, his eyes flashed in the darkness, and John found himself smiling softly at Rodney's profile. They'd been together as a team for over six years, having weathered the worst of the Wraith and the Genii, as well as returning Atlantis to Pegasus.

It had been touch and go there on Earth for a while. John attended too many briefings concerning Atlantis' stay on Earth and how best to utilize the city while it was there as well as what roles Ronon and Teyla would take on within the structure of the SGC. Between those meetings and Rodney's work, Rodney and John's friendship and even their working relationship had slowly receded. Each of them had been called for ever increasing important duties, and their time together as a team with Ronon and Teyla grew shorter and shorter. Team movie nights had been the first to go, each of them too busy to spare any long chunk of time. Then emails to each other grew shorter, more succinct as the workload increased. They rarely ate together. Eventually, they had become Lt. Col. Sheppard and Dr. McKay—back to the way it had been in those first hectic months in Pegasus.

But John had missed Rodney. In his absence, John had discovered how much Rodney actually meant to him—not just as a friend and colleague, but also as a partner. He missed the flashes of sheer genius chased by an impish smile of superiority. He missed the arguments over just about everything, and he missed winding Rodney up to incredulous indignation, then pushing him over into sputtering incoherence.

But most of all, and now that they were back in Pegasus and John could see Rodney whenever he wanted to, John realized that he had more than just missed Rodney—he’d realized that Rodney filled a hole inside him that he’d never known he had. While on Earth, there were several times when John looked up from his meal and expected to see Rodney across the table from him, but the space was empty. In those moments, he had felt a vague sense of something missing, but he could never identify what it was, not even when the chair across from him that was usually filled with Rodney's presence was empty. He'd only been able to give name to it when, on that first evening back in Pegasus, John sat down to eat and five minutes later Rodney joined him and something inside him shifted into rightness. Like his mind just sighed, 'Ahah. That's what was missing,' And since that moment, John took every opportunity to memorize Rodney's face, in case he ever had to live without it again.

Seeing him this way seemed new to John, and at the same time, Rodney was so familiar. This was his partner, his team mate, his friend. And for the first time John allowed himself to think of Rodney as something more. He smiled softly at the realization.

"What?" Rodney's irritated question broke through John's reverie.

"What, what?" he asked, covering his lapse.

"You were staring at me."

John blinked. "No, I wasn't."

"Yes, you were," Rodney said, eyes squinted in question. "Why?"

John sighed. "Wasn't staring at you, really, just, you know, zoning out. You're just in my line of sight, Rodney," John said turning back to the fire.

"Bull. You were staring. In the six years that I've known you, I've never seen you zone out. But whatever. Keep your secrets if you must. I mean, we all have them."

John laughed, "As if _you_ do, Rodney."

"Hey." Rodney pointed at him. "You don't know everything about me."

"Rodney, please. You're an open book. Anyone who's around you for more than 10 minutes knows everything about you." John sniffed. "The important stuff, anyway."

Rodney turned away from him again. "Believe what you want, Sheppard."

They both grew quiet, John because of the settling silence in the clearing, and Rodney more than likely, John thought, because he was miffed.

John relented. "Well, you might be right, Rodney. I mean, you do have at least one secret."

"Oh?"

"Sure."

"And what is that?"

John smiled. "Well, I don't know what you were talking to Neela about, so that counts as a secret, don't you think?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "I was regaling her with the merits of Renaissance pastoral poetry."

John chuckled, surprised by Rodney's response. Sarcasm was one of Rodney's best weapons, and usually what came out of his mouth was sharp, off the wall. But John certainly never expected it to be Renaissance poetry. And if it came out of Rodney's mouth, it was in Rodney's brain. That Rodney's utterly scientific mind had once made room for poetry absolutely made John’s night.

"Thought you hated literature, Rodney," he said.

"It was an undergrad requirement. Mind like a steel trap, Sheppard,” he said, pointing at his temple. “There's stuff in here I wish to high heaven wasn't, and poetry is just one part of that stuff."

John nodded, knowing his friend's attitude about all things unquantifiable. But he remembered his literature classes, the poetry, the dramas, Shakespeare. Everyone has a little piece of Shakespeare they remember, but John knew quoting Shakespeare would earn him no points from Rodney. Not that he was really looking to gain points, but to get the best of Rodney would certainly be worth the derision. He grinned, knowing just what to say to confound Rodney.

"Come live with me and be my love" John quoted, "And we will all the pleasure prove-"

"That valleys, groves, hills and fields, woods or steepy mountain yields." Rodney finished for him. "And we will sit upon the rocks, seeing all the shepherds,” here, Rodney glanced down at John and blinked slowly, letting a small smile curve his mouth, ”feed their flocks."

John looked away quickly, swallowing his surprise that Rodney remembered this poem. But he listened. Rodney's voice lilted over ages-old words. Words that wooed a lover, words that begged for company and offered up pretty pleasures that would last for eternity. John found himself craving those pretty pleasures, but he clenched his mouth shut against the desire and let Rodney’s words wash over his skin.

"If these delights thy mind may move, then live with me and be my love." Rodney finished softly, and John offered up a quiet sigh of gratitude. Then he felt a shove on his shoulder. When he looked up Rodney was grinning down in him.

"Marlowe sure knew how to work it, didn't he? Don't know how many women fell for that drivel. Of course there was also the reply. Got plenty of girls reciting Raleigh at me in response. God, what an asshole he was."

"I never tried it," John said, his voice tight.

"Really?"

John shrugged. "Didn't have to."

"Oh, right,” Rodney said, and John could hear his eyes rolling. “I'm sure all it took was one little wink from those sweet green eyes and a crook of your fingers, and women were falling all over themselves to have at you."

Not for the first time, John found himself irritated with Rodney’s assumptions. He was compelled to respond.

"Not so much, Rodney." He skated the edge here, not sure he wanted to go all the way.

"Right. John Sheppard, Lethario of Stanford, breaker of women's hearts. Of course you didn't need poetry to woo them. You had those secretive eyes and taciturn lips."

John could almost hear Rodney's eyes rolling, but a sense of recklessness—a desire to share a secret—filtered through his blood, spurred by the heat of the embers in front of him, the intimacy of the dim light, and the righteousness of Rodney’s tone, he heard himself say, "Wasn't really after the women, Rodney." There was more; he knew it, but this was as close as he was willing to get to the truth.

"Ah. I get it, too busy learning to fly to pursue the ladies. Would rather let them come to you." Rodney said, nodding knowingly.

Here was his out, his escape so he wouldn’t have to lay everything out on the line. He didn’t take it, said, "Didn't say that. Just said I wasn't after women," instead.

And there was silence. The embers crackled in the fire, a log popped. Rodney pushed at John's shoulder again with his knee. "So who were you, uh, after?"

John stayed silent, looking up at Rodney, willing him to understand.

"Because, I swear to god, John Sheppard, if you say to me that you used to pick up men-"

"Jesus Christ Rodney!" John hissed, glancing around the clearing, to see if anyone had heard. It was one thing for him to hint at this, but it was another thing altogether for Rodney to just blurt it out like the morning announcements.

"What?" Rodney asked. "This is huge, Sheppard. Did you think it wouldn't be?"

John glanced back at him, frowning. "It's not like it mattered to you anyway, did it? You had your… No. You know what? Never mind." John said.

"Are you talking about Katie? And...and.. Jennifer?" Rodney asked. He snorted. "Don't you know anything?"

Glaring into the embers, John said, "Apparently not. Must be one of those secrets you're so good at keeping, huh?" He winced as one ember, catching a gentle waft of oxygen, flared up into a true flame and lingered, igniting another.

Rodney slid off the log to sit on the ground next to John. "Maybe," he said, "you're the only one I can keep secrets from. Everyone else knows, already. Katie knew; at least, looking back now, I think she did. It was probably why she wasn't torn up over my utter failure to propose. Jennifer knew. Turns out she knew the entire time we dated - even when I asked her to marry me."

John sighed, tired and confused. "Knew what, McKay?" he asked, watching the flames dancing in the pit.

Next to him, Rodney huffed out a laugh. "There was something...Always. Every time she and I were together, I felt she was holding something back. Something about me. Like she knew this huge thing and kept it from me on purpose. And, well, you know how I am about not knowing."

John cocked an eyebrow. Oh, yeah, he knew. "Dog with a bone," he said, smiling.

"Right. Exactly." Rodney flashed a quick smile. "So I asked her. And she...you know women. She turned it around on me. 'Why aren't you happy here, Rodney?' she asked me. Well, I didn't know I was unhappy! I mean, I had her; Atlantis was on Earth, so I didn't have to leave my home—and that's what it is, but don't ever tell Ronon or Teyla I said so—and I had my work. I was happy as a clam, right?"

"I don't see why you wouldn't be," John said, agreeing.

"Nope. She said I was unhappy. Then she asked me a simple question and it...it threw me for a loop. And not some short track, simple oval. Nope, this was the mobius strip of loops, Sheppard."

John chuckled. "What was her question?"

"She asked me what was missing."

John swallowed. He already knew what the answer was, because he'd figured it out himself a while ago. If John had missed Rodney all that time on Earth, it only stood to reason..."What did you say?"

Rodney searched his face, eyes glinting in the dim light of the fire. John stared back. He looked relaxed, but the tension in his muscles had him trembling inside. He only hoped Rodney couldn't see it.

Finally, Rodney smiled. "I said you."

"Jesus," John whispered, the word sharp coming out of his mouth. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Beside him, Rodney chuckled.

"Yeah, hit me like that too." Then he said, "But John, Christ, I missed you like...you were like phantom pain on a missing limb, only noticeable because it’s not there. I'd go about my day, my work, relatively happy, as much as I can be surrounded by idiots whose only goal in life is to blow us all up. Then, be eating dinner in the mess and look up and you weren't there, and it was just...odd. Like something should be there, but it isn't and I don't know what it is. But then she asked me, like she already knew, and it was so obvious."

"Rodney," John said, and it was on the tip of his tongue to say 'me too' but he bit his lip instead and turned back to the fire. The two flames had crawled over the last remaining wood of the log, and burned together, flickering as one. "I don't..."

"You don't have to say anything. I mean, I'm me, you're you. And even if you were, you know, into guys, I'd be the last-"

"First." John interrupted. He frowned, knowing that ‘first’ wasn’t right. Then, "No. Only."

He didn’t lift his eyes from the fire, though he could feel the burn of Rodney's eyes on him for several long minutes. Eventually, he heard an expulsion of breath.

"God, John," Rodney whispered.

John sniffed. "Yeah."

Silence descended between the two of them. But John lifted his right knee, setting the sole of his boot on the ground, and let his hand rest on the outside of his raised thigh, close enough to feel Rodney's heat but not enough to touch him.

Rodney mirrored his posture, bending his left leg. Over the silence, the rasp of gun calluses on the cotton of their BDUs hissed into the air. Then Rodney balled up his fist; his knuckles grazed the back of John's hand.

John's breath hitched in his chest, but he didn't move, just let the heat from Rodney's body seep into his own. The silence, broken only by the sound of their breaths now, stretched and twisted between them, becoming fraught with tension and words unspoken. Just on the cusp of unbearable, before John could suck in a breath to break it, Rodney turned and looked at him.

"You know," he said, "I'm ready to go."

John turned to face him, and he knew right away that Rodney was talking about more than just leaving the remnants of the festival. The words were an invitation, an implied question, no pressure, no expectations, and John found he was ready, too. He looked into Rodney's wide blue eyes and found a smile. Then he nodded and tapped his radio.

"Teyla. Ronon. McKay and I are heading back to Atlantis."

Teyla answered, sounding sleepy but happy, "Understood, Colonel. Ronon and I will stay the night and return in the morning. Goodnight, John, Rodney."

"Goodnight, Teyla. See you in the morning."

In the 'jumper, the trip back to Atlantis was quiet, the only sounds being their breathing and the whisper of rustling fabric as one of them turned and settled again in his chair. John kept an eye on the HUD, but quirked one side of his mouth into a half smile when he felt Rodney's gaze, a phantom touch over his cheek and neck. He turned, trying to catch Rodney's eye, but somehow Rodney was too fast for him.

John set the 'jumper down in the bay, and lowered the back hatch, then looked over at Rodney. Without a word, he rose and exited the 'jumper, knowing Rodney would follow.

"We're really doing this?" Rodney's question stopped John on the ramp.

He turned around to find Rodney still in the chair, looking out the 'jumper's windshield. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

Rodney looked at him. "I want a lot of things, Sheppard. This is only one of those. What about you?"

John frowned at the resigned look on Rodney's face. Thinking that resignation wasn’t what he wanted to see in Rodney’s face, he stalked back up the ramp into the 'jumper. Then he swiveled Rodney's chair around and caged Rodney within the circle of his arms by gripping the armrests. He leaned his face in close to Rodney's, forehead to forehead. "Listen, McKay, because I'm only saying this once," he whispered, then pushed in and kissed Rodney lightly. "I want it all. Whatever you have to give, I want it all. No holds barred." Another kiss, his lips sucking at Rodney's bottom lip. "Understand?"

Rodney closed his eyes and nodded, whispered, "Yeah."

John chuckled, then with a predatory smile and a hungry glint in his eyes, he said, "Then get the hell up, McKay, and follow me."

"Right. Yes. I'm following," Rodney babbled.

Their steps were purposeful but calm, echoing through the silence, as they made their way through Atlantis' corridors to John's quarters. They greeted and smiled at those whom they passed, and chuckled nervously when they met each others' eyes. Then they were in front of John's door, and it swooshed open. Rodney followed him inside. As Rodney stepped into the room, John shut and locked the door with a thought, and stepped into Rodney's space, crowding him back against the wall.

Heat radiated off Rodney's body, and John leaned into it, his body touching Rodney's from head to thigh. He rested his forehead against Rodney's then tilted in, drawing Rodney into a deep kiss. He slid his hands down Rodney's strong arms, catching his hands with his own, and threaded his fingers with Rodney's. He lifted Rodney's hands to his hips, and settled them there.

Rodney pulled back from the kiss, drawing in a deep breath. "John," he whispered.

John smiled and said, "Touch me, Rodney, wherever, however you want."

Rodney took him up on that offer, sliding his fingers along the waist of John's BDU's and dipping them below his belt line into the hollow at the small of his back. John hissed in a breath and arched his back, then dipped his head to nip at Rodney's sweat-salty neck. It was so delicious, John wanted more and nipped at the soft skin at the juncture of Rodney's shoulder and neck a bit harder.

Rodney groaned and shoved his hands down John's pants and squeezed John's right cheek.

"Yeah," John growled and thrust his hips, rubbing against Rodney's growing erection. He pulled back from Rodney's neck, and dove in for a carnal kiss, sliding his tongue along the seam of Rodney's mouth, and pushing inside when Rodney opened for him. He set his fingers to working on the fastening of Rodney's shirt then slid his hands beneath the material and shoved it off of Rodney’s broad pale shoulders. He let his hands wander over Rodney's heated skin, down his arms and up again, over Rodney's chest. When he grazed over one of the dark pink nipples, he pinched it, smiling into the kiss with satisfaction as it pebbled up hard between his fingers.

Rodney retaliated by sliding one of his fingers down the cleft of John's ass. John groaned with pleasure, and bit down lightly on Rodney's tongue, holding it captive between his teeth and sucking hard on it while he pinched Rodney's other nipple.

They kissed hard and fast for a while, sliding their tongues together, clicking teeth and bumping noses as they shifted and turned for better and deeper angles on the kiss. Rodney grinned into the kiss and bit John's lip, sucking it into his mouth to lave it with his tongue.

John pulled back slowly, wanting to feel the scrap of Rodney's teeth over the sensitive flesh of his lip. When they finally pulled completely out of the kiss, John stood between Rodney's legs, comfortable and hard in the hollow of Rodney's hip.

He took a moment to relish the feel of Rodney in his arms, the sound of Rodney’s breath mingling with his, and the heat in Rodney’s blue eyes. For so long he’d held himself apart from this, believing that he couldn’t have it. Not just because of regulations or self-restraint, but because Rodney had never even hinted that this could be possible. He swallowed, the bitter lump of ‘never’ dissolving under the knowledge of ‘right now.’

“I never even…” he started to say, only to be hushed by Rodney’s fingers on his mouth.

“Well, we’re here now, so don’t…” Rodney trailed off, his eyes roving over John’s face, “We’re here.” He said.

“Yeah,” John said, drinking in the flush on Rodney’s face. He thrust against Rodney again, and said, "Bed."

Rodney's eyes closed in bliss and swallowed. "Oh. Hell, yes," he moaned.

John chuckled, then stepped back, pulling Rodney toward the bed by the waist of his pants. As they wandered to the bed, Rodney unbuttoned John's shirt, and pushed it over his shoulders. John flung it off when it got caught on his wrists then he went about unfastening Rodney's pants. John's knees hit the bed and he sat down, almost falling, and jerked Rodney's pants down as he did. Rodney's hands fell to his shoulders, and John looked up at him, sly grin curving his mouth as he took hold of Rodney's hard dick and pulled once, twice, then a third time.

"Please, John," Rodney whispered, pushing his hips forward.

John nuzzled his face into Rodney’s crotch and breathed in the musky scent of him. He had to know Rodney’s taste, so he glossed the head of Rodney’s dick over his lips, then he opened his mouth, and sucked it inside, running his tongue under the ridge. Rodney's fingers fisted in his hair, and tugged, forcing himself deeper into John's mouth. John dropped his jaw and took him all the way in, letting Rodney's cock hit the back of his throat. Then he swallowed.

Rodney made the best sound John had ever heard, equal parts groan and incoherent words, and that sound spurred him on. He sucked and licked and twirled his tongue over the head and shaft of Rodney's stiff member, getting it spit slick and shiny. He pulled back and clasped Rodney’s hip with one hand and used the other to grip Rodney’s cock as he sucked on the head, rolling his tongue into the slit.

Rodney tasted salty and smooth, easy, leaking pre-come. John hummed a little moan and sucked him further down.

"Jesus, John," Rodney whispered, low and hoarse, "do you have any idea what you look like right now?"

He looked up at Rodney from beneath his eyelashes and winked.

"Oh, god, I’m gonna…" Rodney moaned and, shaking, pulled John away from his dick. Catching his breath, he said, "We have to slow down. I want..." He threaded his fingers through John's hair and pushed it back off his forehead. "I really want to fuck you."

John licked his lips and nodded. He wanted it too, to feel Rodney, thick and hard, pushing into him, filling him up. "Yeah, Rodney. That’s…yeah.”

Rodney shook his head. "Not…John…not just one time. Not just one night." His hand trailed down to cup John's face, his thumb tracing over John's lips. “You understand?”

John closed his eyes, feeling a sense of completion wash over him. He understood Rodney, and if he were honest with himself, he knew one time would never be enough. Now that they were going to do this, he could finally admit what he really wanted. He wanted Rodney, all the time, wherever, whenever, for all the reasons he couldn’t voice. For the first time in his life, John wanted something permanent. He leaned into the touch, turned his face into Rodney's palm and kissed it. "Yeah,” he said, “always."

Rodney said, "Okay," then he stepped out of his pants, and put one knee on the bed next to John's hip. Leaning down, he kissed John and let his tongue swipe over John's lips, licking the salt of himself off them. Then he unbuttoned John's pants and pushed his fingers inside. John huffed out a breath, when Rodney's fingers grazed the sticky head of his cock once, twice, then a third time. By the time Rodney pulled his hand from John's pants to taste them, John was shaking with need

John's eyes followed the path of Rodney's fingers as he raised them to his mouth. Rodney's tongue slipped between his lips to taste John's essence. John watched and wondered what Rodney's fingers would taste like with both his and Rodney’s flavors mingled at their tips. He had to know. Before Rodney could take his fingers out of his mouth, John kissed him, trapping the digits between their two mouths. He pulled back a little, then sucked Rodney's fingers into his own mouth.

Rodney watched him, pupils blown wide with lust. "Jesus," he said, "You are so fucking hot."

John smiled around Rodney's fingers before letting them go. "So’re you," he said.

Rodney leaned forward to kiss him again. Then he lay down on the bed next to John's hip and said, "Naked."

And John didn't need to be told again. He stood up and kicked off his shoes and shoved his pants down and off, leaving them in a pile by the bed.

"You have stuff, right?" Rodney asked.

"Yeah," John said and retrieved the lube and a few condoms from his dresser.

Rodney looked amused. "Saving those for a rainy day?"

John smacked him. "Fuck you, McKay," he said, laughing.

"That's the idea. And could you hurry it up? I'd really like to get to that portion of the evening, if you don't mind."

Setting the lube and condoms on the bedside table, John stretched out over Rodney, settling his hips into the cradle of Rodney's and leaning forward. "Pushy," John said, just before he kissed him.

Rodney reached around, sliding his hands over John's ass and letting his fingers delve into the crease between John's cheeks. John moaned and arched up into the caress, then slid one leg over Rodney's, opening himself up further. Rodney pulled his thigh a little higher. "Hand me the lube," he said.

John reached over to the table, stretching himself open, grabbed the bottle of slick for Rodney. Rodney squeezed some out and let it drizzle down into the space between his fingers before slicking them with it. "Ready?"

"God, yes," John panted and lifted his knees higher up on Rodney's side.

Rodney circled John's hole, spreading the lube over the sensitive skin before pressing slowly inside. John rested his forehead against Rodney's shoulder, biting his bottom lip, he forced his body to relax and take Rodney's finger.

"Okay?" Rodney asked, pressing a kiss to John's ear.

"Fine, 's good, you can-"

Rodney twisted his finger a little.

"-move. Jesus!" John hissed in a breath. "Oh, yeah, do that again."

"Liked that did you?"

"Mmhmm," John replied.

Rodney twisted his finger again, and crooked it down, pressing deeper into John, then pulling back out, finger fucking him slowly, working him loose and open. "Ready for another?" he asked, pressing a second finger to John's opening.

"Yeah, ‘s good."

Rodney pushed another finger into him, and began scissoring John open. John's breath got shallow and fast, and his fists clenched into the sheets. Rodney took one of John's hands and pushed it toward his groin. "Touch me," he whispered.

John reached down and took Rodney's cock in his hand, and started working him over, tugging and squeezing, relishing the turgid length of Rodney's swelling cock. Rodney arched into the caresses, thrusting up into John's hands while he kept fucking John with his two fingers. Eventually, after several minutes of stretching John, Rodney pushed in a third finger. He spread them out, and John felt split wide open, stretched to the limit. Rodney crooked his fingers inside John's ass, looking for the spot that would push John over the edge. He found it, and John shook with ecstasy as Rodney stroked his prostate.

"Ahh, god, Rodney.” John couldn’t tell where his body ended or began, he was just a mass of quivering flesh, at the mercy of the man over him.

"Jesus, John, I want to be in you," Rodney said.

John nodded and sat up, careful not to dislodge Rodney's fingers, and squeezed out some of the lube onto Rodney's cock. Rodney curled forward and wrapped his free arm around John's ribs to pull him down for a kiss, still working his fingers inside John.

After getting Rodney ready and slick, John pulled out of the kiss and pushed up onto his knees. Rodney fingers slid out of him, leaving him feeling empty. He groaned at the loss, but then Rodney was pushing his cock at John's opening, and John, slick and dripping, slid down over Rodney's hard flesh, relishing the burn and press of him inside. Slowly—so slowly he was sweating with the strain of it—John bottomed out on Rodney's hips, flesh to flesh, balls hot and sticky against Rodney's belly.

"Oh God, John, you feel so fucking good."

John clenched his muscles, squeezing down on Rodney's cock, then circled his hips, hoping the movement would push Rodney's dick onto that bundle of nerves deep inside him.

"Don't...Oh, god, John, don't ...don't move. You're killing me, here." Rodney said, head thrown back into the pillows.

John looked down at him, considered Rodney's arched neck with his skin flushed red and veins standing out in stark relief. Rodney looked so good in that moment, John just wanted to devour him. So he bent down and locked his teeth the tendon between Rodney’s neck and shoulder, relishing the taste of Rodney's sweat tinged with the flavor of sex.

He circled his hips again, and Rodney clutched at him, arched up into him further, pressing even deeper than he already was, and John felt speared.

He lifted up, pulling off of Rodney slowly, muscles clenched tight around Rodney's shaft. The he slid back down, fucking himself on Rodney's dick. Rodney’s hard length sliding in and out of him felt so good he did it again, and again, then again, slowly, achingly slowly, until his was shaking with the strain of restraint.

Rodney grabbed his hips, fingers tight enough to bruise and fingernails digging half moons into his skin that John knew would still be there in two days. He lifted John a little, then fucked up into him, hard, and relatively slowly, then, like it was too much to bear to go slow, Rodney sped up, until only the sound of skin slapping skin could be heard in the room. It drowned out the grunts and moans, the breathing and the "Oh god"s, and "fuck"s and "harder"s.

Rodney looked down at where their bodies joined, but John wanted to see his eyes. Wanted to watch the fire burn there, too, as it did all over Rodney's pale skin. John leaned, body jerking with the force of Rodney's thrusts, and kissed Rodney, not smooth enough to be a real kiss, more like laying his open mouth over Rodney's to breathe him in, taste his breath and sweat. "Look’t me," he said, and Rodney glanced up, eyes wide and pupils blown open until there was almost nothing left of blue, and John could see himself in gleaming black. He grinned. "Hi," he whispered.

"Fuck, you're so goddamned hot, John." Rodney muttered, eyes flicking back and forth as he stared into John's. John pushed his hips down onto Rodney's, stilling the frantic motion of his thrusts, and landed a real kiss, open, carnal, and greedy on Rodney's lips.

Rodney wrapped his arms around John's ribs, held him close and fucked slowly up into him. "So close," he said against John's lips.

John ran his hands through Rodney's short, sweat damp hair, tugging his head back. "Come on, Rodney. Want to feel you come in me." John said, nuzzling Rodney's neck and jaw to nip his earlobe.

Rodney's hips stuttered, and John clamped down on him, circled his hips once, and then Rodney stiffened and moaned low and long as he emptied himself into John's body. "Jesus, fuck, so good, John," he said, and a bunch of other nonsense words and phrases John took as praise as he jerked himself to his own completion.

Rodney's hands were restless on his body, and everywhere they touched they ignited sparks. John bit his lip, moaning as his orgasm built under his skin, spreading fire under every inch of his skin until he was shaking with the need to come.

Rodney whispered, "You're so hot, John. You should see yourself. I have to..." Then he reached and pinched one of John's nipples between his fingers. "Come on me, John," he said, and John exploded with his orgasm, hot fluid spilling out over Rodney's stomach and chest, even catching him on his chin.

"Jesus. Rodney. Fuck." John said, his body jerking with the last wrenching throes of his release. He collapsed, laying down on Rodney, his breath hard and heavy.

They lay like that for a while, John resting on Rodney. After they both stopped shaking, and their breathing returned to normal, John slid sideways off Rodney's body to lean over the bed and pick up a shirt to clean them off. Then he settled to rest on the bed beside Rodney and stared up at the ceiling.

It wasn't what he'd set out to do, having sex—making love—with Rodney. He'd wanted it for so long he'd thought he'd never get it, but now he had it, and he couldn't help thinking that this was going to fuck up everything.

They’d been content as friends for so long, working well with each other, comfortable and easy. They finished each others’ sentences, kept each others’ schedules. Too many times, John had gone to the labs only to have to pull Rodney out of his experiments and simulations to make him eat. God knows how many times Rodney had sat with John in the infirmary, pushed him to hang with the team, forced him to take a break, relax, not blame himself so much. If not for Rodney’s friendship, John had a feeling he’d have been shipped off Atlantis at least three times.

And now, that was all over. Lying with him, in this tiny excuse for a bed, John was positive that things were going to get awkward. They always did, and he never, ever, saw it coming. He’d had no idea that he and Rodney could ever have gotten out of their own way long enough to let this happen, but they had, and John was afraid that everything he’d come to rely on was over. If it was, well, he had no idea what he was going to do.

Probably be best if they just pretended this hadn’t happened. They could go back to the way things were. If Rodney asked, John wouldn't lie or say he didn't enjoy it, because he did. Good God, he'd definitely enjoyed it! But it changed everything. And John thought neither he nor Rodney were ready for that change.

He felt the weight of Rodney's gaze on him, but he refused to turn and look at him, preferring at least at the moment, some semblance of distance, so that they could sweep this under the rug and things could go back to the way they had been. But Rodney, apparently, was having none of that. He cupped John's jaw and turned his head to face him.

John searched Rodney's face, wondering about this apparent need he had to look John in the face. He frowned. "What?"

Rodney quirked a half smile. "What, what? I can't look at you?"

John pulled a face, and he tried to look away again, but Rodney held him fast. “Don’t turn away from me.”

Irritated, John asked, "Rodney. What? You're not about to make a declaration of undying love are you? Because I can go."

Appalled, Rodney barked out a laugh. "Good God no! I was just...wondering what you were thinking. I mean, it's not that hard to tell, really. Besides, I just got you here." He squinted at John. "You don't really think I'm stupid enough to say something guaranteed to drive you away." It wasn't a question.

John had to admire Rodney's tactic here. He _knew_ John better than anyone else. He probably even knew the shit going through John's brain at that very moment. But John couldn't give him the satisfaction; he had to play it off, so he said, "I hoped not. Was just making sure."

Rodney chuckled, letting John have the out. "No, John, you're safe from any sort of declarations here," he said, letting go of John's face and turning over onto his back.

"Good," John said, and settled more fully into the bed. If he pushed in a little closer to Rodney's heat, well...he wasn't going to admit it.

Rodney took a heavy breath. “But I know what you’re thinking. I know _you_ John Sheppard.”

“Well, then, what am I thinking?” John asked him, staring up at the ceiling.

“That this is going to change us. Make us less than what we were.”

John swallowed, surprised—though he shouldn’t be after all this time—that Rodney knew him so well.

Rodney reached over his stomach and patted John’s arm. “This is better, John, trust me. No,” he said, waving his hand to stop John from protesting, “I’m not making any declarations, just stating a fact.” He paused, and John considered his words.

It might just be better, he thought to himself. Rodney wasn’t Nancy, and John wasn’t 24 years old anymore. This could work. He could be happy with Rodney; hell, he’d been happy with Rodney for going on six years.

"Well, maybe one declaration." Rodney said and looked at John with a smug smile. "I declare, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, that this is not the last time we do this."

John considered the statement and all it implied. Deeming a future with Rodney acceptable, he said, "I can live with that."

Rodney turned over onto his side, and draped a leg over John's thigh and an arm over John's ribs. "Good. Because we have pleasures yet to prove," he whispered into John's ear before kissing him and settling down.

John nuzzled Rodney's head, placing a quick kiss in his hair, and chuckling a bit when Rodney snuffled out a snore. Then quietly, under his breath, he said, " _Those_ delights my mind might move, to live with thee and be thy love."

 _fin_   


**Author's Note:**

>  **Author's Note:** Beta'd by the lovely gottalovev. Many thanks to her for taking a rough sketch and turning it into this. Any mistakes you see are mine. Title from Sir Walter Raleigh's _The Nymph's Reply to the Sheppard_. The poem Rodney and John quote in the story is _The Passionate Sheppard to His Love_ by Christopher Marlowe.
> 
> Written for the 2009 edition of [SGA_Santa](http://community.livejournal.com/sga_santa).


End file.
